


Magic plays by its own Rules

by SirienCleresta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirienCleresta/pseuds/SirienCleresta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Hermione was actually a grown pure blood, with career, family (not married though) and something happened that changed her into a child again? What if at the start of third year… She remembered?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic plays by its own Rules

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those infamous "what if" fics. I always thought that Hermione was too old for her role in the books while at the same time in many ways too young. So the thought entered my mind - what if Hermione was really an adult in a kids body? then the thought of what if she were a pure-blood? How would she change things if she compared the differences from growing up twice, how would she deal with potentially have two very different families? How would the characters in the books change when influenced by the new Hermione if she were stuck in her younger body while possessing the memories and experiences of being a 30-40 year old adult with a career, education ect. at least for the majority of her Hogwarts time. I see her breaking free of whatever de-aged her eventually. 
> 
> This will be a slow building fic and knowing me a long one. It will have a happy ending for both Hermione and Harry and because I ship H/D, Harry will end up with Draco and Hermione will end up with Severus (he deserves a happy ending too) 
> 
> Not Brit Picked, Not Beta'd. 
> 
> Just something that had been floating in my mind until I had to write it down. I normally do not write and have been a professional lurker for years. Pretty much just tossing this out there to see if I should continue 
> 
> Please do not flame but constructive criticisim is welcome.

It started about mid-summers after her 2nd year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, when things started to get strange. At first, Hermione shrugged it off. After all, she had been petrified for most of the year. But things were getting odder and odder. She was talking back to her parents, snarking with them as if she were a peer rather than their child. She was hiding things from them and her mind and magic was constantly buzzing. It was a constant thrumming in her head to Do this do that, aren’t you forgetting something, oh I could do.... She had already completed her summer assignments, which while not unusual for she always tried to get things done early so she had time to revise them if necessary. What was unusual was the depth and knowledge she had placed within her essays not to mention the change in verbiage, content and sentence structure. In fact if she did not distinctly remember writing these essays, she would swear someone else had. Some one with years of magical knowledge and experience under their belt, someone who was immersed in Magic who knew and understood it on an almost intimate level, she thought to herself as she stared at her DADA essay. The assignment had been a simple one but complex. It required a great deal of research which normally meant for her many trips into Daigon Alley to pick up extra books. Pick a charm, jinx, hex or curse from the list: research the wand movements, its history, legal repercussions and whether or not it is light, grey, or dark magic – why or why not? 

It was the kind of assignment she loved; intense research while delving into the Wizarding World’s culture and history. She could have happily spent the rest of the summer looking into this. Yet here she is 4 hours after sitting down to pick what to research with the essay done, completed. She remembered writing it but looking back how had she known all of information? Where had she gotten the information? 

The Babbling Curse is currently a mis-understood curse that is often mistaken for the Tongue Tying Curse. If should not be. With its origins that date back to Merlin’s time, the Babbling Curse was often used with Truth potions in order to interrogate a person for information. While the Babbling Curse will cause the person it is cast to start babbling uncontrollably; the addition of the Truth potions and a conversational interrogation technique will often keep the babble on topic and with information divulged in full. The use of the Babbling Curse has widely gone out of circulations with the advent of strong Truth potions such as Veritaserum. The most infamous person known for using the Babbling Potion was Godric Gryffindor’s elder sister, who is no longer named but is simply referred to as the Black Knight of Gryffindor or The Lady Gryffindor. She was said to have such a delicate handle on the curse and the potion combo that many people would swear that they had not been interrogated. They simply had a lovely cup of tea with her whilst they discussed many things: business ventures, political maneuverings ect. This was particularly important as The Lady Gryffindor was placed in trust as the Head of the Gryffindor family until Godric came of age. She held the title for her younger brother for almost 15 years before handing the Title, Magic and Ring over. But it must be said, that Godric’s wife would never in any future writings be referred to as Lady Gryffindor. No she would be referred to as lady Gryffindor. 

The Babbling Curse’s wand movements are also very telling with its history. It requires very delicate moves. A overly strong swish or even holding the wand at the wrong angle will cause the curse to fail or the effects to wear off sooner rather than later. The Curse is also significant in the fact that the magic must fade on its own. It can not be removed by any Counter-Curse known at this time. This meant that the Caster and the Castee can not be disturbed during the process. 

Hermione didn’t know what to make of it as she stood to join her family for dinner. AS she walked down the stairs, her parents noticed that she was strangely subdued. While they were pleased that her none stop energy seemed to calm down, they were not pleased to see this sullen, quiet teenager. They gave each other a significant look. One that parents everywhere knew and dreaded the one that instantly said my kid is hanging with the wrong crowd and now they are into drugs or worse. “Hermione dear, is everything alright?” the mother asked trying to lead the conversation delicately. Hermione looked up and like all teenagers everywhere, denied everything. “Of course everything is fine, Mother, just a little problem with my school.” The mother sighed, thinking ‘really Hermione? That’s the best excuse you could come up with school work?’ “Well if there’s anything you want to talk about or even…” 

“Really Mother, it is just school work. My essay did not turn out as expected.” Hermione huffed not trilled to be jolted out of her train of thought. Her father was less than amused and stood abruptly. “Gosh Darn It Girl! Are you doing drugs?!” Hermione’s head whipped up so fast that there were little dots floating in her eyes. “Drugs?!?!?!” she screeched. “Where did you get the fool notion, Father? I would never.” 

“How then do you account for your behavior since you’ve been home?! First, your flitting here and there like your on speed or something. Hardly settling down for a minute. Then your up at all hours “working on stuff” and don’t think I don’t know that its not “magical” in nature. Then you shut your self up in your room. Quiet as a mouse. When you deign to talk to us your formal and stiff not at all like my little Hermes. And your clothes!”

“what about my clothes?” Hermione yelled back so incensed that she ignored the rest of what her father was saying.

“You look like an adult!” her father roared back. “like your ready to go to one of your Mother’s little social tea’s at the club! With your little suits and your pressed blouses and you coordinating things! The shoes, the purse, the, the, you know what I mean!” 

“Oh so now dressing properly is a crime!” 

“It is when your 12 years old and you left this year with a marked preference towards jeans and t-shirts! Not” He gestured wildly towards his daughter who looked like she could step into Buckingham Palace to have tea with the Queen. Well at least in his opinion. “we just want to know what happened to you. What happened to my little Girl?” he ended on a sigh.

Her Mother cleared her throat. “You have changed, Hermione. You know this. We just want to know what is going on? If it’s not drugs, then what? Is it Boys?” Her father made a strangled choking sound in the background.

Hermione sat down and quietly asked for a few minutes. She wasn’t ignoring them, she just didn’t know how to answer them. How do explain what you didn’t understand yourself. She started speaking slowly as if afraid to get this wrong.

“It started after I came home from school. I started feeling at odds with myself, as if I was too small for who I was or I guess as if I was a grown up in a little girls body. I started noticing me using different mannerisms and turns of phrase but at the time I used them I thought nothing of it. It was as if I had always used them. I don’t fidget as much or tug on my hair. You’ve noticed that I have “tamed the beast” and that I now prefer it up and out of my way. But what really changed though was my… mind, I guess and my magic. I really don’t know how to explain it. My mind keeps racing with all these thoughts and ideas. How to improve charms, political maneuverings from the magical papers that I read even that story in the London Times about the serial killer a few weeks ago… I could practically see all the details that the story left off and I immediately thought ‘You Idiots. It’s the girlfriend of the first victim, how could you miss that?’ and sure enough yesterday, they announced that they caught them and it was the girlfriend of the first victim. I know things. I know things that I should not know.” Hermione sighed heavily, but continued “I know things about Magic that I should not know. I know what magic tainted by dark spells feels like, I know all these spells and potions and thoughts about how magic works. THAT I SHOULD NOT KNOW. For example, I wrote an essay today. The essay for my DADA class, the one I told you would require additional trips to Diagon Alley since it required extensive research. I went upstairs from lunch with the intent of simply picking the spell that I wanted to research and then to double check my Charms essay. I sat down and pulled out the list and then I just started writing. I finished the essay, Mother. It’s done and as far as I can tell not a single thing needs to be corrected as long as the information written turns out to be true. But there is history there that I don’t know where it came from. History that, according to Neville and Ron, could and should have only come from stories passed down from generation to generation within the family! I listed sources of books that I don’t even have or even heard of. And my Magic… I can only describe it as its opening but at the same time I get frustrated with it because its not open enough. I should have access to more or be able to do more with it. But that doesn’t make sense! None of it makes sense! And I just…” Hermione sniffed and wiped the tears from hers unable to believe she was crying. Her mother crossed the room and took her little girl in her arms and said “Oh, Hermione! We’ll figure this out. Don’t you worry.” She crooned in Hermione’s ear as she rocked her back and forth. 

Her father stood and started pacing. “We’ll we really can’t help you,” He started only to be cut off by a glare from his wife. “with the magic stuff! But surely, there is somewhere we can go to? Where do they treat people with magical problems? Like a doctor’s office or so such thing?”

Hermione sniffed, “I don’t know but Mrs. Wealsey would!” 

“Well then dear let’s pay a visit to Mrs. Wealsey. Right Now.” Her mother replied with a small smile. 

The trip to Ottery St. Catchpole was done in near silence. But finally they were there, only to find no one home within the Burrow. They were left wondering what are they going to do now. As they waited hoping that perhaps Mrs. Weasley had just gone on a quick trip, a strange little blond girl came prancing up the lane. 

“Hello there!” the girl said with a bright smile. “I’m Luna Lovegood, and you need to go to Saint Mungo’s although they can’t help you there. In fact the only one that can help you is you.” The girl left with a cheer wave but raised her wand and the tip shined brightly. A sudden crack and a puff, herald the arrival of a strange looking bus. Luna looked back at the family, “well come on! We really must be off.”


End file.
